Blood Ties: Shooting Range
by Waterdancer
Summary: Peter confronts Francie about her choices. A continuation of the Blood Ties series.


Blood Ties: Shooting Range

Author: Waterdancer

Website: http://www.geocities.com/drubaby61/

Distribution: Cover Me, aliasfanfiction list. Anyone else please ask.

Summary: Peter confronts Francie about her choices.  A continuation of the Blood Ties Series

Rating: PG-13 for mild sexual content

Ship: Will and Francie

Classification: Drama/Angst, Serials

Feedback: Yes

A/N: Thanks to Robin for being so patient and the beta services per usual. It's your game now!  Please read the series in the order listed at the Cover Me archive, http://smashed-peaches.net/cover/fic/series.html#b

Disclaimer: I own nothing involved with Alias. It is all JJ Abrams, ABC, the big mouse, and anyone else with a team of lawyers. I do not make any money from this.

***

You wake up with a start to the loud shrill of your cell phone.  As you start to rise, a pair of arms pull you back down. "Where do you think you're going?" a groggy voice demands.

Smiling, you turn to face Will. "Hi, pillowhead. Did you sleep well?"  Your cell phone is growing insistent; you're sure it's Peter.

Will stretches his arms above his head and smiles.  Your insides go soft at that smile, and you feel the need for to jump him again. "I slept fine—when I was sleeping, Francie.  You?"

You lean in and kiss him softly. "I slept great."  If your cell phone could talk, you are sure it would be yelling at you to pick it up. "I should get that," you say as you start to rise from the bed.

He turns you over, and places your arms above your head. "I thought," he starts as he kisses your neck, "we were going to play hooky today."

A small sigh escapes you as he kisses your collarbone. "We are, but if it's my job, I need to tell them that I'm not coming in."

He sits up on his forearm and kisses your forehead. "Let your voice mail pick it up."  You shiver as his hand lifts up the shirt that you put on a little while earlier. "You can check it in about an hour or so."

You smile wickedly at him. "An hour? You think you're that good?" 

"You said so a few times last night," Will answers, his own smile matching yours.

A warm sensation comes over your body as you think back to last night. "Oh, is that so?" you ask as you strain to hear your cell phone.  A slow smile comes to your face when you realize it's stopped ringing.

"Told you," Will says as he leans down to kiss you.  You start to wrap your arms around his neck when the cell phone goes off again.  

Your face falls and you start to move from underneath him.  "I really should get that."

He kisses you quickly and moves to the right. "Hurry back so we can finish our discussion."

"I will," you say over your shoulder as you leave the bedroom.

****

The phone is still ringing in the living room as you rush to pick it up.  "Hello?" you say quickly.  

"Good Morning, Francesca.  You're late for your training."

You turn to look back towards your bedroom, and watch Will shift his position.  He looks up and smiles at you.

Glancing at the clock in the kitchen, you inwardly sigh as you realize you are about two hours late. "Something came up this morning. I was hoping to avoid training today."

You swear that you can almost hear Peter's mouth form a tight line. "Have you spoken to Mr. Tippin in regards to Sydney Bristow?"

You clear your throat and walk into the kitchen. "No, I haven't spoken to Will in a few days."  You open the refrigerator and take out four eggs and some bacon.

He chuckles, and you can hear an edge in his laughter. "Francesca, do not try to mislead me.  His car has been outside of your apartment since early last night."

"I—I don't know what you're talking about." You look around the corner towards your bedroom. Will is now up and stretching.  

Instantly, Peter's voice shows concern. "I told you that it wasn't necessary for you to use your relationship with Will to gain information about Sydney Bristow."

"And I didn't!" you exclaim, trying to keep your voice low.

He sighs, and you can hear him take a sip of his usual coffee. "Meet me at the Duarte Historical Museum in two hours.  We need to talk."

Before you can say anything, he hangs up the phone.

"Are you okay?"

You spin around and see Will looking at you with concern.  You wonder if he would look at you that way if he knew what you were really up to.  You push away the guilt, reminding yourself that you were working to avenge Anna's death.

"You aren't going to believe this, but I have to go into work," you say, feeling disappointed.  You were looking forward to spending the morning with him.

"Oh," Will says as he looks you over. "I was hoping to spend the morning and the day with you."

You place the cell phone on the kitchen table and walk over towards him. "I know, and I'm really sorry about this."  Wrapping your arms around his waist you look up at him. "Forgive me?"

"Well, I don't know Fran, it depends if we can finish our discussion from earlier," he replies.

"What discussion?" you ask, tilting your head and smiling slightly. You know exactly what he's getting at.

You shiver as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close to him. "You know the discussion about whether or not I'm that good?"

"Oh," you say as you stand up on your toes, and kiss his neck. "_That discussion," you offer.  The smile on your face grows wider._

"Yes, that discussion," he says, returning your smile.  "So, what do you say to continuing this discussion in a more comfortable setting?"

You squirm out of his arms and back up towards the bedroom.  "Only if you can catch me first," you say over your shoulder as you dart into your bedroom.

***

You straighten out the collar of your shirt as you pull up in front of the museum. You recognize Peter's burgundy SUV as you step out of your vehicle.

Frowning, you remember the concern in Peter's voice as he told you that you didn't have to use your relationship with Will to gain the information that K-Directorate sought. Part of you knows this, but you recall the look of horror that was on Anna's dead face in those pictures; you want to believe that what happened with you and Will were an ends to a mean.  But as he made love to you last night, the tender way he kissed your neck, your body, you wonder if you've made a mistake.  

"Nice color," Peter says behind you, startling you.  He's sounding American. You wonder what he does when he's not watching you.

You nervously tug at the collar. "Thanks. What's this all about?"

"Have a seat, Francesca," he says as sits down on a green park bench. 

You start to protest as Peter shoots you a withering look.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks after you sit silent for a moment. "I told you not to use your relationship with Will to gain an advantage."

You start to argue that you didn't when Peter glares at you. 

"I did what was necessary," you say quietly as you look at your hands. At first you had every intention to use Will to gain the information that you sought, but as he kissed you goodbye that morning, you'd realized that you were in far deeper than you ever intended. 

"Sleeping with someone this close to you is not the way to our goal, Francesca," he hissed angrily. "I never asked you to do that."

"What was I supposed to do?  Just ask him outright?"  you ask, your voice raised.  You've never yelled at Peter before, but you resent the tone of his voice or maybe you're just feeling guilty.

He mutters a curse in Russian and turns away from you.  You know that he's right.  He never suggested that you cross the line in your friendship with Will. You did it all on your own and he's also right that it's a probably a mistake.

He turns back to face you. "Francesca, in our line of work, it is imperative that we do not get involved with people who are close to us. When our emotions become intertwined with our missions, that's when mistakes are made.  You need to be careful."

As you look at Peter, the anger that was on his face just a moment ago appears to have changed into genuine concern.  There is a question that you need to ask but are afraid to.

"Peter," you start ignoring the screaming voice in your head to not ask the question. "Did Anna ever--?"

"Use her body to gain intel?" he says, the edge back in his voice. "Yes, she did.  She had done it several times before we became involved.  K-Directorate makes it regular practice to order their female agents to use themselves to gain the upper hand.  I've never approved of it."  He looks down at his hands.  "Francesca, I look at you as if you are my own family, and I just want you to be careful."

"And I will, Peter."

***

You take one last look at your reflection in the compact before you knock on the door.  Several weeks ago, you would have never thought you would've changed outfits three times just to come over Will's house to watch TV. Especially not an old television show like Miami Vice, which Will has informed you is a classic show of the 1980s.  You remember it, but you've never seen the appeal.  

As a relationship, you and Will are working out wonderfully.  But as an assignment, it's been a failure.  You haven't been able to ask Will about Sydney's activities, because most of the time you spend time with each other, you're talking about everything but Sydney Bristow.  

You raise your hand to knock on the door, but Will opens it before you can get a chance.  He's wearing his usual jeans, and he has on a dark green shirt.  It's new, and looks great on him.  

"You look great," you say, a wide smile on your face. "Too nice for me."

He grins at your comment.  "Thank you.  You look wonderful, too. I've never seen that skirt before."

You smooth the pale blue material and feel a warm blush over your face. "I haven't worn it a long time."

He just stares at you with his now familiar grin.  There is an awkward silence as you both stare at each other.  He is the first to speak.

"You want to come in?"

You giggle as you remember that you are still standing outside. "Yeah, I would."

***

"Will, that was delicious," you reply as he takes the plate from in front of you. He'd surprised you by making dinner tonight.

"You liked it?" he says over his shoulder as he walks into the kitchen.  You take a sip of the wine, and nod.  

"It was great.  Very filling," you answer.  You rise from the table and make your way towards the kitchen.

He stands in front of you, with a mock frown on his face. "Where do you're going?"

"I'm going to help you clean up," you say while holding the wineglass.  Your other hand is resting on your hip.

"No," he says, taking the glass out of your hand, and turning you towards the living room.  "You are going to go have a seat, and I'll clean up."

You start to protest but then he kisses the back of your neck very softly.  "Now, go," he says, gently nudging you towards the living room. "I'll be there in a minute."

Reaching the living room, you notice a photo album open on the metal coffee table.  Curious, you sit down on the couch, and take the album into your lap.  A tight smile appears on your face as you look over pictures of you, Will, and Sydney taken during your college years together.  You remember how different things were for you before you knew the truth about Anna, about Sydney—about everything.  As sweet as Will has been towards you, you remind yourself that he's involved in this, too.  Turning the page, there are pictures of Will and his sister, Amy.  You fight back bitter tears as you look at the pictures of them being brother and sister.  There is a picture of a young Will shooting a water gun at Amy, and another one of her returning the favor.  You've missed out on so much with Anna, and it's hitting you more than ever.

You sniff loudly, and with shaking hands, you put the album back on the table.

"Hey," Will says as he walks into the living room. He's holding something behind his back. "Are you okay?"

You wipe at your eyes and smile up at him. "I'm fine. Just had something in my eye."

"Good," he says, and that silly smile that was on his face earlier returns.  

Tilting your head, you nod towards his arms, which are behind his back. "What's behind your back?"

"A surprise," he says. "Close your eyes." 

"What kind of surprise?"

"The kind you won't get unless you close your eyes, Francie."

Sighing, you close your eyes.  You feel him sit down next to you, taking your hand. "Open your eyes."

You open them slowly, and see a small cupcake sitting in the middle of the table with a pink candle in it.

"What's this for? It's not my birthday," you say with a chuckle.

"I know, but it's for our anniversary."

"Our anniversary?" 

"Yeah, it's been a month since you and I've started dating.  So, Happy Anniversary," Will says with a shy smile. You can't remember the last time when you've seen him act this way.

"This is sweet of you, Will," you say as you lean down to blow out the candle.  You turn back to him and smile. "Happy Anniversary to you, too."

He pulls you close, and kisses you. As you return his kiss, you realize that Peter was right.  The emotions that you feel for Will are becoming dangerous; you hope that you can keep them separate from your goal.


End file.
